New York Mets third baseman David Wright during an at bat during the fourth inning against the Philadelphia Phillies at Citizens Bank Park. / Howard Smith, USA TODAY Sports

by Bob Nightengale, USA TODAY Sports

by Bob Nightengale, USA TODAY Sports

NEW YORK -- David Wright leans over the dugout railing hours before the New York Mets' game, staring across the field, and at least momentarily, finds peace.

He's not cringing at the Citi Field scoreboard flashing his image, soliciting All-Star votes. He's not flushed with embarrassment discovering that the Mets reached out to a dating website to see if they'd ask their female subscribers to vote for the club's longtime hunk.

And, he's not being booed by fans in visiting cities, angry that he didn't choose their hometown heroes to be in the home-run derby.

Tuesday, Wright will live out something resembling a dream. He'll be the starting third baseman for the National League at the All-Star Game in his home park, playing for the team he loved growing up.

Yet, the run-up to this moment made Wright far less comfortable than he was navigating the waters of stardom in New York City.

It took weeks for Wright to even agree to be the All-Star ambassador, believing that honor belonged to a former Mets great, not him.

He had to tell the Mets to cool their All-Star voting promotions during games. And it's a good thing he had no prior knowledge the Mets' marketing folks reached out to CougarLife, an online dating site that voted Wright its "hottest cub."

"Yeah, there have been times," Wright says, "when it's really been embarrassing. I really appreciated what everybody was trying to do, but at the same time, I didn't want to turn this into a one-man circus, and I feared it was becoming that."

Wright earned the starting nod with 6.1 million votes, putting him on center stage the next two days, as the unofficial host for the baseball world.

"It's one thing to have a living legend host the All-Star Game, like George Brett last year," Wright says, "but it's completely different to do it as an active player."

Captain America

Yet, no one is more appropriate for the duties than Wright, whose image is impeccable.

The son of a Norfolk, Va., police chief and school administrator, he was the kid chasing down autographs and baseball cards from the Class AAA Tidewater players. He vowed that if he made the big leagues, he'd remain respectful, honoring his team, never embarrassing the game.

"I always thought that if I ever got into that position," Wright, 30, says, "it would be so cool for somebody to wear your jersey, or if somebody wanted my autograph or take my picture. I keep that in perspective, just like the responsibility of being a role model for young kids."

He may be rich, possess Madison Avenue looks and be engaged to model (Molly Beers), but Wright's image is so clean he only appears on tabloid back pages for baseball feats.

"He is our Derek Jeter," says Mets outfielder Marlon Byrd, "that's why we call him, "Captain America.' He's the face of this organization, and the way he's handled himself, in the biggest market, is just unbelievable.

"As great a player as he is on the field, he's even a better person off it."

Says reliever LaTroy Hawkins, who's spent 19 seasons in the big leagues: "When I signed with Yankees, the first person to text me was Derek Jeter. When I first signed with the Mets, the first person to text me was David Wright. Need I say more?"

"I remember one time when he was living here," said Rhon Wright, his father, "he left for awhile on Christmas Eve. We didn't think anything of it. It wasn't until after the fact, months later, we found out that he was at the Children's Hospital, passing out presents to kids.

"I tell you, it chokes me up just talking about it."

'That loyalty thing'

Wright is proud of his image, and he's determined that it remains unblemished, but yet, finds himself answering questions about baseball's current scandal.

Wright is represented by ACES, a sports agency that had 10 players linked to the Biogenesis probe into performance-enhancing drugs. Agents Sam and Seth Levinson are being investigated by Major League Baseball to determine whether they had involvement or knowledge of their clients' activity, an allegation they vehemently deny.

The agency had a number of defections since the investigation, yet Wright remains steadfast.

"I called them when that stuff came out," Wright says, "and I asked them point-blank questions. I wanted to know the truth.

"And, at the end of the day, I feel loyal to them. I know what they've done for me, and the guidance they've given me. So all I can do is judge a person on how they treat me. They've always been good to me, and that's all I can go on."

Wright says, did he never consider leaving the agency, even though he signed an eight-year, $138 million deal with the Mets in December.

Wright's loyalty certainly wasn't lost on other ACES clients.

"It would have been very easy for him to leave," said Byrd, who has been with ACES throughout his career. " If he had left, the rest of the clients would say, "Hold on, wait a minute, should I leave too.'

"But there's that loyalty thing."

It's that same loyalty that influenced Wright to stay with the Mets for perhaps the rest of his career, forgoing greater riches, and the chance to play for a contender in free agency this winter.

"I never set out to make every last dollar I could," Wright says. "The last thing I wanted was to let free agency creep in my mind, and go out there and selfishly play for a contract."

The Mets, 41-50 entering the break, haven't been to the postseason since 2006, and barring a dramatic turnaround , this will be their fifth consecutive losing season. Yet, Wright refused to concede. He discussed virtually every prospect in the Mets' system with general manager Sandy Alderson over a round of golf and dinner in Virginia.

They talked about the $46.5 million coming off the books with the Johan Santana and Jason Bay's expiring contracts. And the possibility of contending within two years.

"I had a few questions I needed answered, and after talking to Sandy, he got me excited about the future," Wright says. "I want to be part of the solution getting things turned around. It wouldn't mean the same winning somewhere else.

"If I give everything I have here, and it doesn't work out, I can put my head on my pillow and sleep at night, knowing I did everything I could."

Even in this lost season, Wright's hitting .305 with 13 homers and 44 RBI, refusing to come out of the lineup even with a nagging foot injury.

"He's got a foot that's killing him," manager Terry Collins said, "but he never says anything. It's the same as two years ago, he's playing three weeks with a broken back. Even we have a bad game, he won't come out because he thinks he needs to be there for his teammates.

"I knew he was a good player before I got here, but didn't realize his preparation, and desire to be that guy in tough situations. This organization is damn lucky to have him."

"This is a moment I've been waiting for all year," says White Sox coach Joe McEwing, a former Met who mentored Wright in his rookie season. "He always wanted to do what was right. And to see him now, someone who respects the game like he has, it's going to be a wonderful night.

"I can't wait to hear that ovation, because I'm telling you, no one deserves it more."